I Don't Want Your Crown
by upupa-epops
Summary: This is a series of loosely related scenes set in an alternative universe in which Elena is a sovereign medieval princess, and Damon is a knight responsible for her physical safety. Don't look for one coherent story here - those are just snippets, and they can be quite tiny.
1. Chapter 1

_Holy water cannot help you now_  
_Thousand armies couldn't keep me out_  
_I don't want your money_  
_I don't want your crown_  
_See I've come to burn your kingdom down_

Florence + The Machine, _Seven Devils_

Sometimes she thinks he likes it.

"My lady," whispers Damon as he kisses her stomach, hands already settling between her legs, gently moving them further apart. He feels good on her skin, warm and solid, just what she needs.

He can be exactly what she needs.

"Say it again," demands Elena, her fingers resting leisurely on his hair, ready to grab.

"My lady," he replies obediently and gestures her to bend her knee so he can slip his arm beneath it. "My lady".

Good.

It rings in her ears when his tongue slides over her, slow movements like syllables, myla-dy, myla-dy. He likes this, she's pretty sure he does, the taste of power on his lips and strength trembling under his fingers. He likes taking power off her layer by iron layer, his own head bowed and his breath ragged, and she lets him, melts underneath him until there's no weight left on her shoulders.

(Then her hips arch up, so she grabs Damon's hair to pull him closer, and she takes it all back.)


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes she wonders how his sword would feel in her hand.

(It's heavy, of course, but no heavier than the dresses she clads herself in every day, stiff skirts and headdresses that carry the weight of the entire state. It's funny how many people still think she wouldn't be able to lift a sword.)

"Show me," she asks, and Damon drops on one knee and holds the sword out for her in a heartbeat, as if she were his general.

(She is.)

It's been ages since she last held a sword, and it feels so different now – lighter and heavier at the same time. She can hold it and swing it, even though her legs barely remember the few moves she learned as a girl. To Damon's credit, he doesn't flinch when she starts moving towards him. He simply takes her in, and starts giving instructions, relax your wrist, move your foot, straighten your back, a little more to the right, my lady. Elena follows his calm voice and loses herself in movements, one-two-cut, like child's play.

(If she lets it drop, heads will roll.)

"I should have a fencing master," she says to see if Damon will defy her, but he gives her a short bow, as if saying he'll make arrangements immediately. Of course he does.

As she hands the sword back to Damon, she can't take her eyes off his bent head, sudden sense of danger making her shiver. The chamber feels far too small now, and Elena wishes Damon would get up already, instead of lingering at her feet for a second too long.

(She wishes he'd get up already, so that she doesn't have to wonder whether she'll ever have the strength to let the sword drop on his neck.)


	3. Chapter 3

He never comes to her bed on his own.

She has to invite him explicitly; summon him under some pretext, listen to his updates on everyday business, then say: "I want you to stay with me tonight." Damon obeys every time, Elena notices, the way her father's mistresses used to do once upon a time; quiet and discreet as if sharing the royal bed was the greatest possible pleasure.

(Sometimes Elena wonders if it really is.)

Damon follows her to bed without a question, always looking around carefully to make sure all her maids and ladies are gone before he undoes as much as one lace. Elena's reputation is something they never talk about, but they both think about it every time they close the bedroom door: Elena might need to marry one day, marry for power or marry for children, so now she has to be beyond any suspicion. They don't fool themselves that what they do is a secret to everyone around them, but the least they can do is try not to be arrogant, and give everyone a chance to turn their eyes.

So Damon locks the door quietly, and starts undressing without a word, puts away his noisy weapons, and gets rid of the heavy chain he wears around his neck. Only then he steps closer to Elena, and starts helping her undress.

He's like the best handmaid she's ever had, fishing pins and jewels out of her hair with unprecedented delicacy. He does women's work for her without blinking, and maybe this is what Elena loves him for: his ability to step into a maidservant's shoes the way Elena herself can step into an armor. She might be his lover, but he never forgets that she's his sovereign first and foremost.

She still pulls at his sleeve to make sure he remembers, and Damon is kneeling between her legs in a flash, his hands obediently reaching under her skirts. Sometimes she does this for him as well, takes him into her mouth or pulls her on top of her and lets him thrust until he screams. Not tonight though. Not tonight.

Elena slowly slides her bare foot up his body, her toes brushing absently over the bulge in Damon's breeches. She doesn't stop there though – she goes all the way up, and rests her foot on his shoulder. Power settles low in her belly and makes her moan as Damon bows his head, warm, so warm. She could get naked, of course, but all of a sudden she loves the way her heavy, embroided dress weights on her breasts and her hips, so she keeps it on. When Damon tries to pull up her skirts, she catches his hand.

"Leave it," she commands. "I want you to feel it."

So he dives under, and starts making his way through layers of fabric. Elena opens her legs wider in anticipation, and lets power wash over her as Damon's tongue reaches her clit. He's good at this, as good as at taking care of the pins in her hair, swift and efficient, just enough pressure.

When Elena bites her lip to muffle a sharp cry of release, she feels power settle back on her shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for all the kind words :). I'm sorry to disappoint you, but this will never be more than a series of loosely related scenes - for a proper story, I'd need a plot, and that's something I don't have :).**

**This scene contains possible unwanted pregnancy, with all its repercussions.**

* * *

Most of the time, it's easy to forget about certain things.

There are days when Elena thinks she has full control: she commands her treasury, her court, her council, her army. She is the state incarnated, wisdom, and majesty, and justice; a statue of marble and gold rather than a girl.

(She learned the hard way that it's no use, being just a girl.)

So here she is, a stone princess in a stone castle, with a stone knight standing guard by her stone bed. Her mind is cold, and her hands are heavy as she rules justly and mercifully, stone eyes that don't cry, and stone fingers that don't shake.

But then comes a day when she doesn't bleed, and she is so flesh and bone she wants to vomit.

"I missed my course," she tells Damon flatly in the evening, and he nods in acknowledgement. This isn't the first time, obviously, and it won't be the last.

(They'll go through a scare after a scare until one is real, and then...)

It's funny how Damon never seems bothered by the contradiction that is Elena, girl-prince, lady-general, marble and blood. Tonight, just as every night before, he doesn't show the slightest sing of discomfort – he simply steps a little bit closer, and doesn't say a word.

There's nothing he can say, really. If she's with child, they'll have to deal with it and move on, because as much as Damon seems to be able to live among contradictions, they both understand that Elena can't be both a girl and a prince.

(A part of her wants to be a girl now – to pull Damon down on the floor, and let his hands work on her laces to get her breasts out of her heavy dress as she rides him and screams her lungs out.

Not that girls are allowed to do such things.)

"Keep a midwife at hand," she says, her voice comfortably settling into its usual marble shape. "I might need to talk to one in a few days."


End file.
